


Stage Life

by LondonGypsy



Category: Kane (Band)
Genre: Christian can be a stubborn idiot, First Kiss, First Time, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Realization, Sexual Content, Sexual Tension, Sickfic, good thing that Steve knows his man
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-07
Updated: 2012-01-07
Packaged: 2017-12-04 04:43:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,596
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/706693
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LondonGypsy/pseuds/LondonGypsy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes it needs one man to be sick and one to take care of him to realize what he has...<br/>(God, my summaries become worse and worse every time!)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stage Life

Christian hardly pays attention on stage.  
He's consumed by the music, the crowd and the cheers.  
He's drunk from the high and the Jack.  
He checks his brain at the stage steps – every single time.  
He slips into his stage persona, becomes one with the tunes and the lyrics.  
It's just him, the audience and the songs.  
He gets lost in the words and nobody can blame him for forgetting that he isn't alone up there in the spotlight.  
Sometimes he notices that somebody is behind him, sometimes he doesn't.  
Ryan is behind his drums. Jason and Will usually stay on their side of the stage.  
Steve...well, Steve's the only one who comes close to him.  
But Steve knows him, knows how to be around him, knows how to avoid any damage to his precious guitars.  
He has perfected the skill of getting out of his way years ago.  
Christian hardly pays attention because he trusts Steve to swing the neck of his guitar over and around him no matter what.  
It's like a dance.  
A dance around each other, back and forth, perfected over years and years of being on stage together.  
Back and forth, always surrounding each other but never colliding.  
It's smooth and easy and just perfect.  
Christian doesn't know how he does it. Off stage he often wonders.  
Wonders how Steve knows which way to turn even before Christian even thinks about moving.  
Wonders what goes through Steve's head at those times he just stumbles back and almost against him.  
Wonders if there's some sort of connection between them that makes him just know what Christian is about to do.  
But on stage he doesn't think - he just is.  
And he trusts Steve to have his back like he always does. 

Tonight: another gig, another crowd, another stage.  
But for Christian it's always like the first time.  
When he gets out there, the cheers and the lights, the buzzing room shoots adrenaline through his veins and he smiles.  
Quickly he gets lost in the music like he always does, forgetting everything around him.  
But tonight is different, Steve's presence is much more noticeable and it irritates Christian a little.  
It's like an aura, glowing from deep down inside and Christian feels his presence more than usual; he doesn't even have to look for him, he's just there.  
He's behind him, radiating heat against Christian's back.  
Suddenly he's leaning against Christian, his shoulder brushing against him, hard and solid.  
Christian stands still, absorbing his warmth, his smell, and suddenly his hands start shaking.  
Steve stays like that, his back against Christian's, moving slightly while he plays.  
And then he's gone again, leaving Christian and wandering back to his place.  
And Christian feels cold.  
His voice breaks, just for a second, going unnoticed by the audience but Christian can feel Steve's blue eyes in his back, knowing there is that little frown on his forehead.  
Christian squirms a bit under the stare he can feel almost physically and he leaps immediately into the next song.  
And again he feels Steve long before he can smell his very own scent or feel his warmth when he brushes along his back as he walks past him, and a shiver runs down his spine.  
He throws a glance over his shoulder, the sudden urge to see the other man overwhelming.  
His breath hitches a little as his eyes fall on him.  
Sure, he has seen him today, but as soon as Christian is on stage everything else fades, gets blurry.  
But this?  
Steve is beaming at Jason, groovin' and bouncing; he is a joy to watch, and suddenly Christian understands the few fangirls that wait for Steve after the gig and not for him.  
The long blonde hair is floating around his head, bobbing with every move he makes; the spotlights make it shimmer. His face is glowing and his blue eyes are shining brightly, hands dancing effortlessly over the strings of the guitar.  
He turns his head as if he knows Christian is watching him and the smile he gives him makes something in Christian's gut churn. He swallows hard around the sudden lump in his throat as Steve wanders over, leaning into him, his arm pressing against Christian's chest.  
“Are you okay, man?” he whispers over the music. His cheek brushes over Christian's and he can't suppress the shudder that touch induces.  
“Yeah, I'm good,” he mutters back, despite the hot and cold waves running through his body.  
“You don’t look it,” is the silent answer, but Steve leaves him be and walks back to his microphone, permeating concern and worry.  
Christian's dizzy, he feels sick and he glances at the set list; he wants to get out of here, now.  
One more song.  
“Shit,” he grumbles and without looking up he immediately starts the next song, feeling the confusion of the rest of the band.  
Usually there's some chatter with the audience but tonight Christian just wants to get off stage, back to his hotel and just sleep; he's getting a cold or something.  
He hurries through the song, and as soon as the last note fades he's backstage, grabbing his jacket and almost running out of the door.  
He hopes one of the band members will take care of his guitar, but he knows it'll be Steve. It's always him.  
He shudders as the cold air meets his heated face and stumbles towards the sidewalk, waving for a cab. 

20 minutes later he's in his room, shedding his clothes and crawling into bed, pulling the covers over his head.  
He's shaking non-stop now; his head is pounding with the mother of all headaches and his eyes hurt like hell.  
The pounding gets worse as he tosses and turns, feeling like his skin is too tight, burning, and too sensitive to any touch; with a curse he throws the sheets away.  
He almost doesn’t hear the knock on the door, so loud is the rushing of blood in his ears.  
Just as it gets louder and a low voice starts calling his name he notices it.  
Cursing, he gets up and staggers to the door, opening it to peek out.  
His breath flees from his lungs as he sees the familiar form of his best friend.  
“Steve?”  
The question is out before he can hold it back and the other man glares at him.  
“What the fuck, Christian? You can't just run away like that. What's wrong with you?”  
Steve shoves the door open further and Christian takes a step back at his displeased expression. Steve walks inside and sets the guitar case on the floor, kicking the door closed behind him.  
“I brought your guitar,” he grumbles, nodding in direction of the case.  
He glances at Christian, mouth already open and Christian is sure he knows what he wants to say. But then there's that frown again and Steve steps closer, narrowing his eyes.  
“Dude, are you okay? You look like shit.”  
Christian suddenly becomes aware that he's only wearing boxers and the words that leave his lips are less convincing than intended.  
“Yeah, I'm fine, just drunk... tired. Thanks for the guitar... Sorry for leaving that quickly...”  
He's rambling incoherently, trying to avoid looking Steve in the eye.  
Steve hand on his cheek starts him and he jerks back.  
“Chris, you're burning up.”  
His fingers slide over Christian's over-sensitive face, cool and soothing, and he's shivering again.  
“Shit, man...c'mon, you should be in bed,” Steve says, all anger in his voice gone, concern showing through in his words.  
He takes Christian's arm and drags him to the bedroom. He urges him back into bed and pulls the covers over him.  
His hands are on his face again, feeling his forehead and cheeks as Christian closes his eyes, relishing the touch.  
“Chris?”  
Steve’s voice is low and warm, concern clearly audible but Christian is too drained to open his eyes again. Hot waves wash over him, followed by a cold that goes straight to his bones, making him trembling again.  
“Christian?”  
Christian frowns; all he wants is sleep and as nice as it is that Steve's not pissed at him anymore, he's keeping him from falling asleep.  
“Hey, I'mma go and get you some medicine, 'kay? You're scaring me a little with that fever. Where's your key?”  
The words barely make it through the daze Christian's in but he lifts his hand, pointing towards his abandoned jeans on the floor.  
“Okay, hang on, I'll be right back, man. Anything else you need?”  
Christian tries to think about that but the headache gets worse and thinking hurts.  
“I guess some aspirin, hmm?” Steve murmurs, and Christian feels a soft stroke over his forehead, calluses brushing over his skin; it feels good.  
He murmurs approval, not sure if actual words come out but he hears a soft chuckle.  
“I know.”  
And without elaborating what he means or what exactly he does know, Steve's gone and Christian hears the door closing with a silent click. 

He must have fallen asleep eventually because he wakes with a start as the mattress dips.  
“Shhh, it's just me,” Steve says, pushing him gently back into the pillows.  
Christian relaxes and hears him rummaging around on the nightstand.  
“I got you some painkillers and something for the fever, but you need to eat something in order to take them...”  
The words are hanging in the air; Christian knows he can't eat anything, his stomach slowly rolls just at the thought of food.  
“I can't let you take them without at least a little something in your system, man,” Steve mumbles and Christian is slightly shocked that he obviously knows what he is thinking.  
“Dry bread. Come on, man, just a little bit. Then I'll let you sleep...”  
The rough crust against his lips feels weird but apparently Steve's determined and pushes it further into his mouth.  
Christian chews weakly on the bread and as he swallows, it almost gets stuck in his throat.  
Steve feeds him a few more pieces before he sighs.  
“Guess that’s enough.”  
Christian hears the distinctive pop of a pill bottle.  
“Man, you gotta sit up for a sec, they have to go with water. Can you do that?”  
Christian slowly shakes his head, scowling as the hammering in his temples gets worse.  
Another heavy sigh and then there are those cool hands again, around his shoulders, pulling him up. Steve slings an arm around his waist, steadying him with his own body, pressing him against himself.  
He pushes two pills past Christian's lips and helps him sip from a water bottle.  
It's quite exhausting and Christian slumps against Steve's body as he sets the bottle back down.  
His head falls on Steve's shoulder, feeling the fabric of his shirt rough and cool against his heated skin.  
He knows he has to lie back down but right now he just doesn’t want to move, not at all.  
Steve’s closeness is soothing, his body is warm and the arm around his waist feels too good to give up just yet.  
Christian inhales Steve’s scent deeply, nuzzling his neck sleepily, wanting to stay like this.  
“Chris?”  
Steve's voice is low but Christian can hear the question in it.  
“'m good,” he mutters against Steve's collarbone, amazed that he can get the words out without having his head explode.  
“Yeah, I can see that,” Steve grumbles and makes an attempt to let go of him.  
“Nghhh,” Christian protests wearily, twisting in hand in Steve's shirt.  
“Chris, c'mon, you're sick, you need to sleep it off.”  
He tries to untangle Christian's hand but it only makes him tighten his grip on the tee.  
“Stay,” he begs, motivated by the pure need to have Steve around him.  
“Chris...I...” Steve tries to reason, but then he just sighs and kicks his boots off.  
Christian hums happily and allows Steve to lower him back into the cushions. He tucks him in and makes sure he has the water close by before he gets up.  
“Imma be in the...”  
“Here,” Christian demands stubbornly, patting the empty space next to him with a shaky hand.  
He doesn’t know why it's so important to him, but he feels a bit better at the thought of having the other man nearby.  
“Dude, I'm not...”  
“Please?” Christian can hear the whining in his plea but he doesn’t care.  
“If I get sick too, you so owe me, man,” he mutters, and Christian feels the mattress dip again as Steve sits on his other side, shifting and then sighing quietly.  
Christian rolls over and tries to open an eye; peeking through his lid he sees Steve leaning against the headboard, watching him with concern.  
Christian worms his hand out from under the covers and pats Steve's knee. He's drifting back into sleep, the pills are already doing their magic. Steve smiles reassuringly at him.  
“Sleep, Chris, you'll feel better tomorrow.”  
Christian wants to say something but he's too tired and he slips away, his fingers curled around the jeans in his hand.  
*  
When he wakes up again, the small bedside lamp is on, dimmed down to a slight shimmer. He feels like he's high or drunk, in a weird way, and he's not sure if he likes it. But the pounding headache has toned down to a dull ache in the back of his head and he can move without getting attacked by it.  
His mouth is dry and he rolls around, wanting to take a drink, when a soft tug in his hair stops him. He stops dead in his motion and tries to figure out what it is. He carefully lifts his arm, roaming over his head and his fingertips meet warm flesh. Slowly he runs his fingers over the hand in his hair, over the wrist with its bracelets and he knows the exact order they are in.  
He forces his eyes open and the first thing he sees in the dim light is Steve, half way sprawled over the end of the bed. He must have slid down during the night and is half lying above Christian, his head against the headboard, snoring softly.  
Christian watches him, stunned, before he's trying to slide out of the grip the other man has on his hair.  
Steve stirs in his sleep, muttering and blinking his eyes open.  
“Hey,” Christian grunts; the word seems to be stuck in his throat and it hurts. He coughs but that hurts even more.  
“Shit, man, you sound terrible,” Steve murmurs.  
“Feel like it, too,” Christian says, scowling at the rasp in his tone.  
“Go back to sleep, Chris,” Steve says softly, and it's just then that he becomes aware that his hand is in Christian's hair.  
Christian frowns as Steve takes it away.  
“You were tossing around, mumbling in your sleep. Didn’t want you to wake up again and this seemed to help,” Steve explains quietly, and once again Christian's amazed that he seems to know what he was thinking.  
Steve sits further up, grabbing the covers and sliding down until he's lying next to Christian.  
“Go back to sleep, man,” he repeats, snuggling under the sheets, sighing as he stretches his limbs.  
Christian can't tear his eyes away; even in the dim light of the room the other man still has that slight glow he noticed earlier in the night.  
He reaches out and lets his fingertip hover in the air above Steve's cheekbone for a second before he lowers it. The touch is nothing he hadn’t already felt, they touch and hug all the time, but there's something in Steve's face that amazes him.  
Absently he watches his finger trail over Steve's cheek, outlining his jaw and Steve doesn't move; Christian isn't sure he even blinks.  
“Chris...?” His tone his quiet and calm and his eyes are shimmering, blinking sapphires in the dark.  
“Hmmm?”  
Christian's distracted by soft skin and warm flesh.  
“What are you doing?”  
“You're glowing,” Christian says, feeling the blush at those words creeping over his face but he can't stop and he won't lie. Not to his best friend.  
Steve chuckles and the sound of that makes Christian smile; he always loved the way Steve laughed.  
“You are,” Christian muses, feeling a little fire in his guts, and even though his throat feels like it's filled with broken glass he continues.  
“You glow, man. It's more intense when you're on stage though...”  
He trails off, his hand still wandering over Steve's face, exploring every single line and wrinkle.  
“I guess that’s because I love what I do,” he murmurs, closing his eyes as Christian restless fingers slide over the lids, his eyebrow and his temple.  
“But you aren’t on stage right now,” Christian states logically.  
“Yeah, but I'm with you...”  
Christian tries to connect those two statements but his mind is too busy admiring the elegant line of Steve's nose.  
Steve’s purring lowly and Christian's hand drops from his face to his chest, smiling thoughtfully as he feels the vibrations against his palm.  
“You feel good,” Christian mumbles.  
His fingers play with the buttons of the shirt Steve is wearing and as his hand slips between the fabric and brush over his skin, Steve sighs deeply.  
“Chris, you wanna stop this,” he murmurs and lays his own hand on Christian's to stop him.  
Christian has never felt better and he scowls as he looks up and meets Steve's blue, open gaze.  
“Why?” he asks bewildered, pawing at Steve's skin, trying to break his hold.  
Steve takes a deep breath and leans closer, his eyes drilling deep into Christian's and his breath ghosts over his skin.  
“Because I don’t know if I can hold back any longer, ya know,” he says quietly and leans back again.  
Christian's confused, uttering a questioning sound and Steve sighs, squeezing Christian's hand.  
“Darlin', I'm only human, I'm not made of steel. How am I supposed to resist you when you're all touchy like this?”  
His voice never wavers as he takes Christian's hand and puts it between them, shifting away a bit.  
Christian tries to make sense of Steve's words, but his brain can't seem to work properly and Steve sees his struggles.  
He watches Christian closely for a moment, his eyes searching his face intensely. Christian tilts his head, amazed at the blue gaze gliding over him like a physical touch.  
“You know,” Steve whispers, “you have no idea how gorgeous you are right now. All tousled and sleepy, tryin' to make sense of what I say. You don’t know how adorable that blush right there is...”  
Christian can hear him, hears his words, but he can't figure out what they mean. He feels his face flush though, and Steve chuckles.  
Christian lowers his gaze, feeling naked under Steve's burning eyes. His sight falls on Steve's hand, lying close to his on the white sheets. He could touch him, just stick out his pinky finger, they're so close. The urge to do exactly that is suddenly overwhelming and he reaches out, covering Steve hand with his own. He's grounding him, his anchor in the sea of rattling thoughts, and he groans happily.  
“God, Chris, don’t do that to me.”  
The words are hushed and for the first time Christian hears the roughness in them. He looks back up, catching Steve biting his lip, his gaze dark and somewhat hungry on Christian.  
“Do what?” he asks carefully, expecting Steve to withdraw again.  
“Tempt me,” Steve growls lowly but he doesn't move a muscle to get away from him.  
Instead he locks eyes with Christian's, and something in his gaze, deep down inside it, has Christian tighten his hand around Steve's.  
“You have no idea what you're doing to me, do ya?” Steve murmurs but before Christian can say or do something, Steve leans closer. He never breaks their eye contact and Christian has time to notice that the blue is only a tiny ring, almost erased by huge black pupils. Then Steve's lips are on his, brushing over his skin and fireworks explode in Christian's head.  
Steve's doesn't move for a second, just pressing his mouth against Christian's, breathing a bit too fast. Slowly he swipes over Christian's lips, skin against skin, warm and soft. Christian feels his tongue flicking out and Steve moans lowly.  
The sound pierces through Christian's haze and he pulls back; breaking the contact leaves him shivering.  
He searches Steve's eyes. They are bright and clear and it's only because Christian has known him so long that he sees the well-hidden sadness in them.  
“Christian, you're the most clueless person I've ever known,” he mutters, lifting his hand and brushing some hair out of Christian's face. His fingertips linger over his cheek a little longer, causing Christian's lids to fall closed. He grumbles as Steve pulls his hand back; another deep sigh fills the silence in the room.  
“Steve, please...?!”  
Christian has no idea what he's doing or why he needs this but he shifts closer to the other man and lays his arm over his waist, keeping him from backing away.  
Steve's eyes narrow but they keep watching him, and Christian could drown in the depth of them.  
Only because of that Christian can see the quick flicker in them before Steve exhales and curses.  
He leans in and kisses him again, moaning tonelessly against Christian's mouth; he feels the vibrations against his lips.  
Christian's mind is blank. He concentrates on the incredible feeling of Steve's skin against his, trying to figure out why this is so amazing. Then there's a moist flick over his bottom lip and without thinking he opens up and Steve's tongue slips in, nudging gently against his own.  
The overwhelming feeling doubles and he moans helplessly as he hesitantly curls his own tongue against Steve's, testing his taste, getting lost in the feeling of wet and hot flesh.  
He feels Steve's hand sliding over his side and onto his back, constant pressure and motion and his heart is beating in his throat, loud and heavy.  
Suddenly Steve is gone and as Christian reluctantly opens his eyes, Steve's at the other side of the bed, putting as much distance between them as the mattress allows without getting up.  
“Chris, no... you're not yourself tonight. Stop it.”  
Christian watches him closely, his flushed cheeks, the glazed eyes, and there's that glow again - brighter than before - surrounding him like an aura, slightly pulsating.  
He can't help himself, he reaches out for the other man before his brain can even make him think about it; it's like instinct.  
“Can't,” he groans, “need you...”  
Steve's lids flutter closed and Christian uses the second to slide towards him and sling an arm and a leg over the other man, pressing his body against Steve's, sighing contently at the contact.  
The growl piercing through the daze in Christian's head has him only press closer, then Steve's mouth is back on his, kissing him fiercely. His hands are in Christian's hair, pulling him closer, kissing him harder, deeper and Christian is constantly moaning, he can't control the pure need taking over his body.  
He can't breathe properly but he can't stop kissing Steve just as frantically back, tongues and teeth and heat and want.  
Steve breaks the kiss, nibbling on his lower lip for a second before he leans his forehead against Christian's, panting harshly against his mouth.  
“Chris...you...I...we can't... can't do this...you're sick... you don’t know what you're doing...”  
His tone is filled with regret but Christian hears the hidden desire in his words, loud and clear as a bell, ringing in his head.  
And he knows that’s just wrong.  
Steve does everything for him, always and without question, he is always there, always has his back, never asking for anything, just doing what Christian wants.  
And he knows that this, here and now, is his chance to give back what he's taken without thinking about it.  
He's never been so clear or sure about anything. It's just the one and only thing to do.  
His hand finds its way to Steve's head, running through his curly hair before it slides down and lifts his chin. He gasps as the blue gaze pierces into his, bright as the sun but darkened with sorrow and fighting emotions.  
“Steve? Is this something you want?”  
Christian's voice is quiet but steady and the aching in his throat is forgotten; all that counts are the words that'll leave Steve's sensual lips in a second and Christian is sure he knows the answer already.  
Steve shakes his head slowly, but his eyes tell another story.  
“Steve, you know you can't lie to me," Christian whispers, his fingers stroking over the silky curls, again and again, like soothing a shy animal.  
“Chris... I... “  
Steve bites his lip but then he straightens his back and Christian feels a smile curling over his own lips.  
“Yes. Fuck, Chris, I wanted you since the day you stepped foot in my life... you... your smile is the most beautiful thing I've ever seen and... But I can't... you...you aren’t...”  
Christian's hand in Steve's hair tightens and he pulls him even closer.  
“Then shut the fuck up and take what you want.”  
Steve growls, low and long and his mouth is back, kissing him deeply, shivers running along Christian's spine at the barely hidden need in the kiss.  
There's no more thinking, no more doubts; just their lips, speaking their very own language.  
Christian forgets everything around him, nothing is important anymore, only Steve in his arms and the meeting of their lips.  
Almost unnoticed, the kiss loses its frantic edge but they keep kissing, slow and deep and lazy. Steve shifts a bit, bites gently at Christian's bottom lip, kisses the corner of his mouth and then down his chin. He doesn't let go of the hold he still has on his hair but he slides further down, caressing Christian's scalp with languid motions while his mouth maps his neck, his collarbone, his chest.  
He's gently biting and licking, kissing every inch of skin he can reach. As he pulls back and searches for Christian's eyes, Christian whines quietly as the warmth of his body disappears.  
“Shhh... just let me...” he trails off as he sits up and opens the buttons on his shirt, not taking his eyes of Christian, who watches him hungrily. More and more skin gets revealed and then Christian's hand is on Steve's chest, brushing over the smooth flesh, fingertips drawing random patterns over it and Christian smiles as goosebumps appear.  
Steve’s hands drop to hang at his sides, the last button unopened, and his head falls down, hair hiding his face. Shivers run through his body, and he groans as Christian lets a finger graze over one nipple, the sound going straight to Christian's dick, making it twitch.  
He pushes away the covers he's still lying under and Steve gasps as his sight falls on the growing bulge in Christian's boxers.  
“God, you're so fucking gorgeous...” Steve huffs, pushing the hair out of his face and seeing that his eyes are sparkling in the dim room.  
He reaches out and lets his finger trail over Christian's chest; he snickers lowly as he brushes over his nipples and Christian growls loudly.  
It feels so fucking incredible, Christian can't ever remember this being so amazing. His eyes close and he slumps into the cushions, blown away by the touch of the other man.  
“So beautiful,” Steve whispers. Christian hears rustling and as he peeks through heavy lids, he sees Steve has shed his shirt and is kneeling on the bed, his eyes dark and somewhat preying on Christian's mostly naked body.  
Christian can almost feel his gaze, making him tremble under the intense stare.  
“Steve... please...”  
His dick is aching, his hands are shaking and his heart is beating way too fast.  
“Chris... you really... are you sure?”  
Christian smiles at him and nods.  
“Yes, I am...c'mere...”  
He reaches out for him and then Steve's body is covering him and he doesn't suppress the cry as the burning skin touches his own, setting his nerves on fire.  
He clings to the other man, reaching blindly for his mouth, kissing him roughly, wanting to show him what he wants; fuck, what he needs.  
They stay like that for a moment, just trading kisses, not moving, hands buried in each other’s hair.  
“God, please, touch me,” Christian mutters into the kiss; he has the feeling he's going to explode if Steve doesn't do something...anything.  
Every fiber in his body is tingling, his skin is burning where Steve lies on top of him but he needs more. His hands roam restlessly over Steve's back and as he carefully drags his nails over his skin, the man arches into him, rubbing his own hard dick against Christian's.  
“Fuck... touch me...”  
Christian's voice is only a whisper but he's pleading now and Steve complies.  
He wiggles a bit with his legs, pushing them between Christian's and gets up, kneeling there, watching Christian for a moment.  
His hands are wandering over Christian's chest, his belly, tracing every muscle, every line, making Christian gasp and squirm under his touch.  
“You know,” Steve whispers as he leans down, placing soft kisses all over his stomach, “I've been dreaming about this for a while now. Wondering how you'd feel, how you'd taste, what noises you'd make if I'd do this...”  
He bites at the thin skin at Christian's hip and then sucks sharply, using teeth and tongue to deepen the bruise. Christian arches into his mouth, not wanting him to stop, and as Steve lets go, kissing the dark bruise carefully, his moan is loud and needy.  
“Fuck,” Steve growls, running his palms over Christian's legs and under the boxers, fingertips brushing over his thighs, “you have no idea how fucking hot you sound. Or look, for that matter...”  
Christian writhes on the bed, Steve’s words getting to him, getting under his skin, and he whines, not able to form words.  
Steve smiles down at him, that small knowing smile telling Christian that he knows exactly what he wants – as usual.  
He hooks his fingers into the elastic of Christian's boxers and slowly pulls them down, inch by inch, making Christian gasp and buck his hips involuntarily.  
“Shhh,” Steve soothes him, his honey-smooth whiskey drawl rough and concentrated as he crawls back to remove the boxers completely.  
He sits back on his heels between Christian's spread legs, his eyes only slits as he lets them slide over every inch of naked skin.  
Christian's fists clench into the sheets at the deep hunger he sees and he yelps as Steve lowers his head and kisses a trail up his right leg, taking his time.  
As he reaches Christian's twitching and leaking cock, nuzzling the sensitive skin next to it, Christian whimpers, words falling from his lips neither of them understand but they don’t care.  
Steve's hands come to rest on Christian's hips, warm and hard, pressing him into the mattress and then his lips close around his aching cock, taking him all the way down.  
Christian cries out, his hips come up, seeking the heat of Steve’s mouth.  
His body feels as if it's dissolving, he loses control over his muscles and his bones feel like they're completely gone.  
The mouth around his weeping cock feels heavenly and as Steve starts licking and sucking, Christian loses all ability to think; he only feels.  
The heat and the friction, Steve's palms on his skin and his teeth grazing over the length of his dick are mind-blowing and have him moan with longing.  
His own hands search for a hold and he buries them in Steve's hair, wanting to hold him there, fucking his mouth until they both can't breathe anymore.  
Steve's humming around his dick, working his tongue around the head, biting, teasing and Christian feels his orgasm in his belly, slowly but surely building up.  
His groans get louder and he twists his hands in Steve's hair, wanting to pull him away but Steve doesn’t let him.  
Instead, he doubles his efforts, tongue hard against Christian's flesh, and with every move, Christian slides a bit deeper into the amazing heat of Steve's mouth.  
He utters a warning grunt but Steve only takes him deeper and Christian comes hard and violent, feeling his release filling Steve's mouth, feeling him swallow it all.  
He's shaking heavily, his vision's blurry, and his entire focus is on Steve, who is still licking at his cock, gently now, knowing exactly when to pull away. He presses a sloppy kiss on Christian's hip, his breath hot and fast against his skin.  
Christian's gaze shifts along his own body to see Steve's hand working himself furiously. He wants to protest, wants to tell him that he wants to do it for him, but he feels too drained to even move a finger.  
With hazy eyes he watches Steve getting himself closer and closer and then Steve's eyes snap open and he locks them with Christian's.  
Both are staring at each other, getting lost in blue eyes.  
Steve looks like sin; his hair is floating around flushed cheeks and he's biting his lip, his upper body glistening with a fine sheen of sweat, hand around his hard cock stroking fast and almost brutal judging by the strained muscles in his arm.  
Christian wants to move, wants to touch but he still can't get his limbs to obey, so he only watches, lets his eyes wander over Steve's body, drinking in the scene, and he can see the moment Steve's orgasm hits him.  
His eyes glaze over and he makes two more weak moves and then his come paints Christian's belly, splutters hot and sticky over his skin.  
Christian's moans mix with Steve's harsh pants, echoing in the quiet room.  
Steve collapses onto Christian's chest and he immediately closes his arms around him, holding him tightly, feeling his running heart and his sweaty skin and it's the most amazing feeling ever.  
They lie like this for what feels like hours until Steve slips off of him, grimacing a little at the stickiness between them. He rolls on his back, one hand on Christian's thigh, stroking lightly over his skin, making him tremble at the touch.  
Christian's eyes slide closed; he tries to fight the sleep, keep it at bay, but Steve feels it too and sits up, pulling the covers over them.  
He leans over him, kissing him carefully.  
“You're wonderful, you know that, right?”  
Christian's voice is gone and he can only croak his protest but Steve shakes his head and snuggles as close as possible.  
“Don't say anything. We'll talk tomorrow. Sleep.”  
Christian mumbles but the fatigue is stronger and he's asleep the second he allows his lids to close completely.  
*  
He wakes with a start, shooting up from under the sheets. He's panting heavily and sweat covers his body; he feels it slick on his skin.  
He presses a hand on his thumping heart and falls back, taking a few deep breaths to slow it down.  
There's movement next to him and he glares over and freezes.  
Steve's blond head sticks out from under the bedding, tousled and wild.  
Christian stares at him, wondering what the hell he's doing here. Steve moves in his sleep, mumbling quietly but doesn't wake up.  
Christian shifts away and suddenly realizes that he's naked. With a rush the memories flow back and he gasps, staring wide-eyed at the other man.  
“Fuck, what the hell...?” he curses, frowning as he feels the stickiness on his belly. His cock twitches slightly as his brain tries to work through the images of last night.  
Christian lies still, shocked by the emotions and confusing thoughts, trying to make any sense out of it.  
He almost squeaks as the hand lowers down on his head, carding carefully through his hair.  
“Stop brooding, Kane, you'll break your head.”  
Steve's voice is rough and low, still sleepy but as Christian glances through his lashes the other man's eyes are wide open, watching him sharply.  
Christian blushes under the intense stare, pulling the covers higher over his naked chest. Swirling emotions fill his mind and he frowns, not knowing what to say.  
“Forget about it, Chris,” Steve murmurs resigned, taking his hand away and shifts away, “no need to...”  
“What?” Christian says, anger making his tone louder than he wanted to, “no need to...what??”  
He shifts and sits up, clinging to the covers, glaring at the other man.  
“Fuck you, Carlson. What did you do to me? I am not … gay,” he spits the last word with disgust, fury boiling up.  
“Relax man,” Steve sighs, “I know that. Just forget about it. I knew I shouldn't have stayed...I'm sorry...”  
His face falls and he throws Christian a sad look before rolling on to his other side. He sits up and bends down to retrieve his shirt from the floor.  
The sun is shining through the windows, its beams illuminating Steve's back and Christian can only stare. He wants to be mad, wants to kill Steve for what he made him do but the view of his back, bare and vulnerable in the sunlight, stirs something deep inside him. His eyes slide over him, noticing every muscle, every freckle, the slight tan, and his fingers itch to run over the clearly visible line of his spine.  
Before he knows what he's doing he reaches out and does exactly that, his fingertips oversensitive to the touch of Steve's sleep warm skin.  
Steve stops moving, the shirt forgotten in his hand, and Christian faintly notices that the man is barely breathing.  
He gets lost in the feeling of Steve's skin under his hand, smooth and golden, and he runs his finger slowly over his spine, circling every bump, amazed as he sees the shudders running over Steve's skin.  
Christian outlines the entire length of Steve's backbone until he stops above his lower back, hesitating just for a split second before he runs his hand further down and palms the swell of Steve's ass.  
Christian hears a low growl and then Steve's on him, pushing him hard back onto the bed, mouth hot and feverish on his own, kissing him desperately. The sounds he's making deep down in his throat go straight to Christian's already-interested dick, making it rock hard and he moans helplessly against Steve's burning lips. His arms are around the other man before he notices it, pulling him roughly against himself. He loses himself in the feeling of Steve's frantic tongue in his mouth and his intoxicating smell, groaning needy against his hot flesh.  
It's Steve who pulls back, panting harshly, eyes wide and dark on Christian, staring into his eyes.  
“Chris...god... you have to stop... I... can't...”  
Despite his murmured words of denial he plants feather-light kisses all over Christian's face, driving Christian crazy with its sweetness.  
“Steve...” he mewls, clinging to him, rocking against him, rubbing his aching cock against Steve's leg. His lids flutter close; rational thinking forgotten, only feelings, deep and demanding.  
“Chris...Christian...ohhh God...please...”  
Steve's voice is only a rasp in Christian's ear, erasing everything and leaving him with an overwhelming longing.  
“I want you, Chris, I wanna fuck you....slow and deep and...God...I want to make it so good for you...”  
Steve is whispering, kissing and licking along Christian's neck, rolling his hips and Christian feels his cock leaking, feels the heat, and his fingers dig deep in Steve's back.  
Christian hears him and his mind flinches back for a split second at the thought but suddenly he knows…  
Knows that’s what he also wants, always has wanted when he rubs against Steve on stage, watching him play. He knows as clear as this morning is that he has always wanted to know how Steve's hands would feel on him, in him, splitting him open, making him squirm under his slick body, making him lose that last bit control he always retains, even when having sex with somebody.  
He pushes against Steve, making him lift his upper body, and he groans frustrated as he avoids his eyes.  
“Look at me, Steve,” Christian demands, voice hard and Steve's eyes find his, blue as the sky, shining clearly in the sunshine falling on to them both.  
Christian watches him, searching for something, and Steve seems to know because he's holding his head high, letting Christian find what he needs.  
“Then do it,” Christian growls eventually, “fuck me...show me what you...”  
Steve's mouth is back on his before he can finish the sentence, tongue diving deep, having Christian humming in surprise at the fierceness of the kiss.  
“Chris...” Steve murmurs against his lips, “you know I can't go back if...if you let me do this. I can't be only a friend anymore if you...we....”  
He trails off and pulls back, looking him deep in the eyes.  
Christian cups his face with both hands and nods.  
“I know,” he says softly, all doubts gone; his mind is crystal-clear.  
“I know,” he repeats, his thumbs stroking over Steve's cheekbones, “I don’t want you to. I don’t know if that makes me gay or whatever but I don’t care.”  
Steve groans loudly and without a word he claims Christian's lips again, kissing him until he's dizzy and his body is vibrating with need.  
“Steve...please...c'mon...”  
“Shh...I got you...let me...” is the silent answer as Steve slides along his body, kissing and biting a hot trail down Christian's chest before he stops and leans out of the bed. Christian whines at the lost contact but Steve quiets him again and picks up his jeans, searching through the pockets.  
He produces a small bottle and holds it up, not saying a word. Christian's eyes are glued to it as Steve throws it on the bed next to him before he slides back on top of Christian.  
“How...why...?” Christian's a bit confused and Steve laughs softly, kissing the tip of his nose.  
“I'm a good scout. Always prepared,” he chuckles and bites at Christian's earlobe.  
“Moron,” Christian grumbles but as Steve sinks his teeth in his neck, he moans and arches into the other man.  
“You should be thankful, man,” Steve mumbles, kissing down Christian's chest.  
Christian wants to reply but then Steve is sucking at his nipple, sharp and short but it shoots a flash of hot white need through his body.  
“Holy fuck....” he pants, biting his lip and clenching his hands into fists.  
Steve's hands are roaming over his body as he slides lower, still placing light kisses over every inch of skin. His breath ghosts warm over Christian's twitching dick and his tongue flicks over his length, just a quick lick but it almost kills him.  
“God, Steve... I... I'm fucking close... you better stop teasing...”  
There another soft chuckle against his groin and one hand leaves him, searching for the small bottle. Christian feels slightly strange as he hears Steve opening it and he squeezes his eyes shut, letting Steve do what he needs to do.  
“Christian, hey...Chris...look at me, c'mon, baby...”  
Steve's low croons leave Christian with no choice and he blinks up to look at Steve crouching between his spread legs, one hand running over his belly. Christian can't see his other hand but he feels it, and he shivers.  
“Chris, you have to relax, darlin'... I can't do this if you're tensing up, 'kay?”  
Steve's voice has the soothing tone he always gets when he wants to convince Christian to do something he doesn't want to.  
“Relax...” Steve whispers against his skin and then Christian feels the tip of his finger circling his ass, stroking slowly over the sensitive skin.  
Christian's eyes slide closed at the mixed feelings; it feels amazing but at the same time he knows what he's about to do and he can't suppress the jerk back as Steve dips his finger against his hole.  
“Fuck,” Christian gets distracted by the barely hidden shaking in Steve's words, “you're so tight...so hot...God, Chris...”  
Christian takes a deep breath and wills his muscles to go slack as Steve pushes a finger in, slow but steady, and Christian yelps.  
Steve is muttering words but Christian can't understand them, he's too caught up in the incredible feelings the other man is causing in him.  
It hurts, yes, but the burn is pleasant, making him grit his teeth to not beg Steve to hurry. It feels amazing and Christian strains his muscles to urge Steve forward, to make him move faster.  
Steve moans lowly and then there's a second finger, filling him a little more, adding pressure to the sensation and Christian rocks against his hand, useless sounds tumbling from his lips.  
Steve's motions get more frantic, more impatient, and as he pulls his fingers out, a steady stream of quiet curses fill the room.  
“Fuck, you have no idea how much I want you right now...” Steve pants, moving between Christian's legs; Christian hears a slick sound but he can't open his eyes.  
Steve’s lips are on his again, kissing him gently, his tongue swiping over his bruised flesh.  
“Bend your knees,” he whispers into his mouth and Christian obeys.  
“I'll be careful...” Steve promises and Christian knows that he will; he trusts him with every fiber of his being.  
“I know,” Christian mumbles and then there's a pressure against his hole, steady and hard and he takes a deep breath.  
As Steve pushes past the ring of muscles, bit by bit, Christian's hands tighten around his shoulders, holding on, needing to be grounded.  
Slowly Steve pushes further, and Christian knows without seeing it that Steve is watching his face, making sure to not hurt him and he smiles thankfully.  
Christian feels him shaking, hears his increasing breath but he knows that Steve is still holding back, still trying to be as careful as possible.  
The burn fades and is replaced by the feeling of being filled so completely that Christian has a hard time concentrating on his own breathing.  
“You feel so fucking great,” Steve murmurs, "so hot and tight, so...ohhh....”  
His words become grunts as he's completely buried inside Christian, his balls pressing tight against Christian's ass.  
He freezes and leans down to brush a shaky kiss over Christian's chest.  
“Move, Steve...please...”  
Christian is slightly shocked to hear the deep urge in his own voice but he knows that Steve has to do something; he's so full, so stuffed and he can already feel his own cock leaking pre-come all over his stomach.  
“Gimme...a sec...so fucking hot…won't…not gonna last...”  
Steve's stammering but he slowly withdraws, the motion setting every nerve in Christian's body on fire and he yelps loudly as Steve snaps his hips back. His cock brushes over a spot deep inside him, making him lose control over his body. He's trembling heavily, he can't breathe and yet he wants more.  
“Fuck...fuck...fuck....Steve, do that again,” he whimpers and wraps his legs around Steve's waist, driving him deeper, desperately begging for more.  
Steve's head falls hard on his chest, not moving for a second; Christian is going crazy with need now. He digs his nails in Steve's back, dragging them wildly over the entire length of his spine and Steve arches hard into him, nudging that hot spot again.  
Christian cries out loudly, not able to hold back and that's it. Steve lifts his head and his hands close around Christian's hip and shoulder to steady himself.  
First it's long, languid movements that make Christian's head spin but then his pace accelerates and he's fucking him, hard and relentless, ramming his cock as deep into him as he can.  
Christian feels Steve shaking in his arms, feels his skin getting slick and slippery and his needy moans are music to Christian's ears. He angles his hips, allowing Steve deeper access and gets rewarded with more low groans, harsh and panted.  
“Chris...God...I...fuck...”  
Christian's dick is pressed between their stomachs, wet with pre-come and the friction is not enough until Steve finds his rhythm, bumping against that spot over and over again. Christian's nerves are singing, his head is exploding at the sheer incredible feeling and with a loud cry he's coming, not having touched his dick once. Stream after stream pulsates between them, covering their bellies with hotness and then there's Steve's voice, growling roughly:  
“Look at me Christian, look at me.”  
Christian opens his eyes but he can't see anything, everything's blurry and he's still coming, jerking and trembling until he's drained and he slumps back.  
Steve is still moving inside him, fast, hectic motions until his entire body stiffens, all muscles under Christian's hands going tense as he yells out.  
Christian feels Steve's orgasm deep inside, feels him shooting against his prostate, making him shake even more as the hard streams tickle over it. Steve's hips buck against him a few more times, weakly and shakily, before he collapses on to Christian's chest, his breath ghosting erratically over his heated skin.  
They stay like this, neither of them able to move, Steve still buried inside Christian, a sweet weight on and in him.  
Heartbeats slowly calm down and breaths go back to normal but Christian wants to stay like this, not moving, just listening to Steve's calming huffs and feeling his pulse against his arm around his neck.  
When Steve moves and slips out of Christian, leaving him empty and rolling off him, he growls protesting. Steve laughs softly, and the sweet sound of it is something Christian will never forget.  
“God, I love your laugh.”  
The words are out before Christian can hold them back and Steve runs a warm hand over his chest, laying his head on his shoulder.  
“Oh, Chris...”  
He chuckles against his skin before he leans in and kisses his neck.  
“You're one fucking amazing man, you know that?”  
Christian feels a blush on his cheeks but he smiles quietly.  
“Yeah, I know,” he shoots back, suddenly feeling light headed; this is well-known territory, teasing Steve as he always does.  
Steve snorts amused but as he lifts his head, searching Christian's eyes, a shiver runs through Christian's limbs.  
“You know, “ Steve says silently, sliding a finger over Christian's lips, “I've never thought...”  
Christian shakes his head and kisses Steve silent.  
“Don't.”  
His mind is already catching up on what he did - what they did - and he doesn’t want to think about that. Not yet, at least. Later, he decides.  
“C'mere,” he growls and pulls Steve in his arms, shifting until they lie as close as possible, legs tangled, Steve's head on his chest and his arms around him.  
“Chris...” Steve sighs, nuzzling his neck, “we have to talk about this.”  
Christian frowns and pulls him closer.  
“There is nothing to talk about,” he states firmly, inhaling Steve's scent deeply.  
“Yes, there is.” Steve pulls back a little and props his head in his hand, looking down at Christian.  
“You remember what I said? About being only a friend?”  
Christian nods weakly, knowing Steve won't let it go; he can be pretty stubborn.  
“Chris, it was amazing, that’s not the point. But I'm not sure if you want this...want me as I want you. Because...”  
Christian grunts and shakes his head, laying his hand over Steve's mouth.  
“Can you stop talking for a sec? I'm still...,” he swallows, trying to sort his racing thoughts.  
“I'm not entirely sure what you expect me to do but you should know that I wouldn’t do anything I don't want to do...”  
Christian lets the last words linger in the air and he sees how Steve's eyes grow bigger, starting to sparkle and a tiny smile plays over his bruised lips.  
Steve knows him, knows that he's right; if he doesn't want to do something, he just doesn't do it. Simple as that.  
“But...” he stumbles and Christian snickers, tangling his hand in his soft hair.  
“Steve, sometimes you're pretty stupid. Just shut the fuck up and kiss me. I'm still sick and I need some rest, 'kay? We’ll figure it out.”  
Steve grins, his face lights up and Christian's pulse speeds up at the sight.  
“Geez, you have one fucking gorgeous smile. Why didn’t I see that before?” he mumbles, pulling Steve into a slow and languid kiss, moaning as their tongues meet again.  
“Because you never really looked at me?” Steve suggests dryly, smiling against his lips as Christian smacks his arm lightly.  
Christian bites Steve's lip before he pulls back.  
“Steve, I sometimes can't take my eyes off of you... but I... tried to hide…didn't want you to think...and I...”  
“Shhh, it's okay. I feel ya...you have no idea. And I've been tryin' to hide it for years already...” His voice is quiet and Christian wants to bury his face in shame. Why did he never see his struggles? Never realize that there's more between them than he thought?  
“Chris, you're from Texas, you never even considered being into guys...”  
Steve plasters kisses over his jaw, feeling Christian freeze under his body.  
“How...?” Christian whispers.  
“I’ve known you for fucking 14 years now. I can read you like an open book, baby.”  
Christian frowns, searching Steve's wide eyes, trying to see if he's joking.  
He's not.  
“But... you never... you must've...dunno... known then...??”  
Steve shrugs.  
“I presumed, yes, especially lately but I wasn’t sure. But it got harder to stay away from you.”  
“Yeah, I've noticed that,” Christian says, wondering what Steve would've done if Christian would have realized earlier.  
“I probably would have dragged you into my room and fucked you senseless,” Steve grins, stroking Christian's hair out of his face.  
He laughs out loud as he sees Christian's puzzled face.  
“Don't try, I just know you better than you do, Chris. It's what I do...what I am...even more when I...” he falls silent, hesitates and then continues so silently Christian has to lean closer to hear him.  
“...when I love....”  
The word hangs in the air, echoing through Christian's head and he forgets to breathe. He stares at the other man, speechless.  
Minutes pass while neither of them says anything, just watching each other, Christian's baffled and Steve's waiting, anxiously letting his gaze run over Christian's face.  
“Fuck, say something,” Steve finally breathes, biting his lips.  
“Love?”  
Christian can't really grasp it; this is bigger than he thought it had gotten over the last few hours, and he's confused.  
“Yes, Christian, love. I love you. I shouldn’t have let it come that far but I can't go back, not now, not after last night. I'm sorry...If...if you want me to go...I'll leave...”  
He slowly shifts back but without thinking Christian shakes his head and pulls him back against his body.  
“Don't you fucking dare,” he grumbles, “just...gimme some time, 'kay? I need...to think...”  
“As much time as you need,” Steve says quickly and it sounds like a vow.  
“Good,” Christian murmurs and his lips brush over Steve's again, sinking into a kiss that has him forgetting anything else for a while. 

A week later: another stage, another city, another crowd.  
And for Christian it is always like the first time.  
When he gets out there, the cheers and the lights, the buzzing room shoots adrenaline through his veins and he smiles.  
He forgets everything around him, gets lost in lyrics and music.  
But he never forgets about Steve.  
He's always there, on his right side, calm and constant but his presence is strong and reassuring.  
Every time Christian glances over, Steve's blue gaze locks with his, making his nerves tingle and his body vibrates with joy.  
Nothing has changed: Christian barely pays attention to what happens around him, he still flirts with the girls in the first row and Steve has even gotten better at dancing around him, getting out of his way just a second before Christian stumbles against him.  
But there are looks and touches, brushes of skin against skin that have Christian trembling with anticipation and longing.  
There's that smile, the first thing he sees in the morning and the last thing at night, bright as the sun and warming his heart more than any whiskey or a cheap fuck could.  
He smiles back and when Steve winks at him, it lights a hot little fire in his stomach.  
He plays better than before and when Steve comes up to him, his heart jumps a little.  
This is where he belongs: on stage, with Steve by his side. Nothing else matters, nothing else counts; only Steve and their music.  
When the gig's over and Christian puts down his guitar, Steve's there, pulling him into a tight hug, pressing a quick, hidden kiss on to his cheek.  
“You were amazing, darlin',” he whispers over the cheers of the crowd before he pulls back, glowing all over again.  
And the words are out before Christian can even think about it, not that it would change anything; it's the truth:  
“I love you.”  
Steve freezes and stares at him for a second before the most beautiful smile breaks free and he's in Christian's arms again, pressing hard against him.  
And Christian has never felt happier in his entire life.


End file.
